


These Innocent Hearts

by Paladin-Pile (UserFromPluto)



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Gen, Sad, Tears, bby makoharu, introspection of six year old Haru, my poor bby Haru I want to hug him, the tachibana's are so sweet, thoughts of a child, we have Makoto and his mother to do that tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UserFromPluto/pseuds/Paladin-Pile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was now that Haru knew exactly what to do. He had a routine, and it was the same every year. He walked out the door and sat down on the first step, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, and watched them go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Innocent Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> *grabs box of tissues* Follow me on tumblr @utsukushin!

“Goodbye Mother, goodbye Haruka.”

 

The man standing in the doorway leaned down to kiss Haru’s grandmother on the cheek before picking up his suitcase. His wife stood next to him, her black hair pulled tightly back in a bun, necklace glinting in the sun as she looked down at her watch. When she looked up, she caught Haru staring and smiled tightly, waving to him with her fingers. 

 

“Have a good trip,” Grandmother was saying, in that same soft voice she used when reading Haru bedtime stories, one hand holding the book while the other petted his hair. A week prior, that same voice had sounded hesitant when she took his hand and made him look at her. 

 

_ “Haruka, your parents are coming to visit,”  _ she had said, and he had simply nodded. In his six years of life his parents had come to visit as many times as he could show on one hand. He could remember three of those times - four if he tried very hard, which he didn’t. 

 

The people in the doorway who had been labelled as his “parents,” were interesting people. They were fast: fast when they talked and walked, fast when they ate their meals. They talked to Haru and his grandmother like the people on the news talked, with strong tones and no pauses for him to respond (though that was a relief because Haru never knew what to say). 

 

They smelled different, too. Not like the sea breeze, or incense, or the dirt in the back garden. It was something sharper and more confusing. It suited them, Haru supposed. They always brought confusion to his quiet little home, sending waves through the peaceful environment and making him feel like a small boat bobbing on the surf. 

 

_ “They’re good people, Haruka. They work hard,”  _ Grandmother always told him, words that he would repeat to any other children that would ask about his family.

 

He was in kindergarten now, he knew what parents were. He saw them coming to pick up his classmates every day, fussing if their child was dirty or did something they weren’t supposed to. He saw the same classmates cry every morning when the parents left. It was all very troublesome, Haru thought. Maybe it was better his parents weren't like that.

 

As it was, his mother and father finished their goodbyes and headed down the stairs toward the street. It was now that Haru knew exactly what to do. He had a routine, and it was the same every year. He walked out the door and sat down on the first step, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, and watched them go away. Once they reached the end of the stairs, he knew they would turn onto the street that went along the ocean. Haru watched them intently. Each year he would wonder what would happen if he made himself cry like the children at school. Would they run back? Would they fuss over him? Or would they keep walking like always, hurrying along the shoreline to the train station, past the little store where Haru would get soda pops on hot summer days? He never found out the answer, because he never did anything other than sit quietly.  He watched until they were out of sight. Then, like he did every year, he watched a little longer, just in case.

 

When Haru was sure they were well and truly gone, he let his eyes drop down to his feet, wiggling his toes on the cool stone. He didn’t feel very good - eyes scratchy, and insides squeezing in a way he didn’t like. It felt like something was missing from him, and suddenly, he knew what to do. Not bothering to put on shoes, Haru stood and started down the steps, his little feet picking up bits of dirt and sand as he went. He took the steps slowly, one by one, being careful to hold the railing like Grandma taught him. He had forgotten once and had fallen hard, the blood on his knees matching the deep red of the torii above him. When he reached the bottom, he didn't go onto the street like his parents had, but turned left up another, shorter set of stairs until he reached a familiar door. He knocked politely, and a minute later the door was opened by a woman with long brown hair.

 

“Haru-chan!” She said, beaming, “have you come to see Makoto?”

 

Haru didn’t know why he came, but nodded anyway, figuring that was the easiest answer. She let him in and brushed off his feet. “Makoto is upstairs cleaning his room,” she said, “you can join him if you like, but I’ll be making cookies soon, so come down if you want to help.”

 

Haru just looked at her. He hadn’t actually thought about what he would do when he got here, he just knew he wanted to come. There were strange new things moving around in his chest and he was unsure what to do, so he tried something he had never done before -  he reached out his arms to be picked up. Mrs. Tachibana looked surprised for a moment, but smiled easily and scooped Haru up in her arms as if she did it every day. Haru thought she was probably used to it, having Makoto and all. 

 

He thought it would be strange at first, but it wasn’t. Mrs. Tachibana held him just right, so he was comfortable as she walked around the house. Her smooth, happy voice flowed constantly in a way that reminded him of Makoto, and he found himself relaxing in her presence.

 

Her hair was brushing against his face and it was very soft. She smelled sweet and he stared at her, touching her cheek with a small hand. She turned to him with a squinty-eyed smile and asked him something, but he didn't respond. He leaned against her, resting his chin over her shoulder, and felt a small chuckle rumble through her chest. She put a hand on his back and rubbed gently, and suddenly there was water running down his face. It wasn’t coming from his hair like it did when he got out of the pool, but from his eyes, like Makoto when he was scared. It was a strange sensation but Haru couldn't stop it, just gasped a little and wrapped his small arms around Mrs. Tachibana’s neck. She immediately cuddled him close and murmured soothing words, rocking him gently as he began to cry in earnest. Haru’s body shook with tiny, whimpering sobs. It hurt and he wanted it to stop, but also wanted her to keep holding him like this. 

 

Some time passed before Haru’s sobs died down until only a few stray tears remained. He hadn’t said a word since he arrived, and he knew Mrs. Tachibana was worried. She had the same expressions as Makoto, so it was easy to know what she was thinking. Suddenly, he heard the sound of running feet and looked up to see little Makoto dash into the room. 

 

“Mama do we have...Oh! Haru-chan, you're here!” Makoto’s green eyes sparkled with delight and he ran over to them, pulling on his mother’s dress until she brought Haru down to him. 

 

“Makoto? Why don’t you take Haru to your room and play for a while, ok?” She said, ruffling the younger boy’s hair. Makoto looked to Haru to see if he agreed, but his expression fell when he saw Haru’s tear-streaked face. 

 

“Is Haru-chan ok?” He asked in a small voice. His bottom lip wobbled and he looked close to tears himself, something Haru absolutely could not let happen.

 

“I’m fine, Makoto,” Haru said firmly, nodding for emphasis and grabbing Makoto’s hand. “Let’s go play together.” The green eyed boy suddenly launched himself at Haru, pinning his arms to his sides in a bear hug and squishing his own cheek against Haru’s chin. When he deemed the hug sufficient, he pulled back and grabbed Haru’s face with his chubby hands determinedly. After staring for a second, he dragged Haru’s face to his own and began planting large, wet kisses all over him, especially his cheeks and eyes, where the tear stains were still visible. 

 

“Haru-chan will be kissed until he is happy!” Makoto declared, almost knocking them both over with his enthusiasm. Makoto’s mother laughed and let them be, and the boys stumbled their way into Makoto’s bedroom where they played for hours. 

 

...

 

It was getting dark when someone else arrived at the Tachibana’s door, and Haru could hear his grandmother’s voice talking to Makoto’s mother. He left his toys and took his friend’s hand, walking down the stairs toward the voices. They were just outside the living room when Haru heard his name being spoken, so he pulled Makoto aside and sat them down just outside the doorway. 

 

“I wish there was something more I could do,” his grandmother was saying softly. “It’s always like this. Haruka is different for a while after they leave, and when he finally recovers they return and it starts all over again.” 

 

Makoto yawned and curled into Haru’s side, wrapping both his arms around one of Haru’s and sucking his thumb. He was getting a little old for such a thing, and the adults were discouraging it, but Haru let him be.  A little extra comfort never hurt, and he was bound to grow out of it eventually. 

 

“Poor child,” Mrs. Tachibana’s voice floated over to them. “Makoto loves him so much, we all do. He’s like a part of the family. If there’s anything we can do, Mrs. Nanase, please let us know.”

 

“Just being there for him is the most important, thank you.”

 

Makoto was nearly fully asleep now, head rolling onto Haru’s shoulder. The hallway where they sat was fairly dark, and they both jumped a bit when they heard a deep voice above them.

 

“Makoto, Haruka? What are you boys doing down here? It’s time for bed.” 

 

The boys looked up to see Makoto’s father looking at them fondly. “Go and get your pajamas on,” he said, “Haru-chan can sleep over.” Happy with this arrangement, they hurried to get changed, brush their teeth, and lay out the futons next to each other. Haru’s grandmother came to say goodnight before going home, and soon they were settled into the softness of the beds, suddenly exhausted. After a few minutes, Mr. Tachibana came in to check on them, tucking the blankets around them and kissing each of their foreheads. 

 

“Goodnight boys, sleep well,” he said. 

 

Haru watched with drooping eyelids as the man’s feet walked across the floor and out of the room. He scooted a bit closer to Makoto, hearing the other boy’s soft breaths and feeling his familiar warmth beside him. Sighing happily, Haru closed his eyes and slept.

 


End file.
